Lost Angels
by Leia Avenrose
Summary: All Hitomi Kanzaki ever wanted to do on that scorching summers' afternoon was go for her daily run around the block, but it is interrupted, however. The Dragons of Gaia are stirring and with them, they stir a great evil which needs to be contained before


            **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Vision Of Escaflowne__ã__… _some other big person/company owns it and the characters.

            **Dedication:** To the one and only *_Sagittarius Girl_*…

~Lost Angels~

By: _Lynzi Knight_

Ratings: R / NC-17

Chapter 1 – New Faces 

            The day outside the walls of the mezzo-sized house was humid, hazy from the heat waves and completely horrendous as a young woman no older then eighteen crouched down to the scorching hot pavement to lace up her running shoes. Something curtained by her white T-shirt brushed against the inside of the soft fabric. The long gold chains hanging from her slim neck felt cool and invigorating to the touch of her flushed skin.  

            She hadn't even started her daily three o'clock run which she usually did with Biggs, but because of the extreme heat, she left her large German Sheppard inside the air-conditioned house with her mother and little brother. Kanzaki Hitomi blew out a large gust of breath as she slowly rose and squinted her sea-green eyes as she scanned the empty streets. No one was outside on their lawns running through sprinklers, out on the streets roller blading or skate boarding. They were all inside their air-conditioned homes relaxing in the frigidness of a machine that was popular amid the very wealthy.

            There was a black Mitsubishi that drove by quickly at a quick velocity. The blasting radio played new songs from _Hamasaki Ayumi_, _L'arc~En~Ciel_ and _Two-Mix_, the big pop idols of Japan and Hong Kong. The deep laughter of males drifted over the pounding bass as well as the wolf calls and whistles as she jogged from her yard onto the sidewalk.

            Her long legs were tanned from days of running along the paths in the parks had already begun to glister with perspiration. It was _really_ hot outside. Hitomi cringed slightly as her left foot hit the ground a wrong way. Something unfamiliar was tugging at the back if her conscious and it was irritating her. What was it any way? Why did she feel so strange when she woke up this morning? Why did she feel so… alien to the surroundings she always woke up to every morning?

            She rounded a corner and checked her pulse as she felt the sweat roll down between her shoulder blades. It was late July, early August and school was completely over. She had just remembered that morning that she had to fill out that application for the university down in America. Hitomi exhaled loudly as she felt the oxygen leave her lungs. This never happened to her before! She usually could run for three hours straight with a small break of half an hour in between.

            She won tons of races, met lots of other track runners from around the world. At around the age of sixteen, she was a well known track runner throughout the entire world, her name appearing in popular magazines, her picture appearing in millions of papers around the world. She had even beat Sumono Amano just last year! She had beaten him by twenty point two seconds on the eight hundred race down in California.

            Hitomi blinked absently as a plump droplet of perspiration drifted onto her eyelids and then rolled down the side of her face. Where was she, what street? She glanced up at a sign at the corner of a street and found the letters blurred and squiggly as she tried to comprehend the words taped to the metal sign. She was too busy to watch where she was running that when she was rounding a corner she saw from the corner of her eye, she bumped into someone with a hard, large body that caused her to stumble backwards towards the street.

            Hitomi gasped quietly as her eyes frantically roamed over the face, the reddish-brown eyes as wide as her own, and the pitch-black hair windblown just as her own. For a moment, after she blinked away the sweat from her eyes, she could have sworn that she had spotted a pair of large, fluffy wings that resembled those of an angels' as they unfolded to their full height and extent behind his broad back and shoulders.

            She felt something strange against the inside of her t-shirt and suddenly saw the mysterious man disappear. Replacing him was her pendant. It floated up into the air, the light cherry colored gem topped off with a golden shaped hat giving off a bizarre radiance as it just floated in mid-air in front of her face. It seemed to mock her as it brushed up against the tip of her nose, daring her to do something.

            Something loud and intimidating crackled to life above her head and she had to crane her neck to stare up at the cloudless sky that suddenly turned to complete blackness. She blinked, her heart pounding away against her ribcage in fear of what was happening. All around, as she lowered her head quickly to glance around at her surroundings, the houses were all outlined in a neon green. It were as if she were looking into the screen of an old computer that just supported the colors of neon green as characters and a black background for the scene. It scared her; she didn't know what was going to happen to her now. Was she going to die?

            Hitomi went to whirl around to stop herself, as her movements felt slow and sluggish. Something behind her broke through the black depths surrounding her as it touched down onto the ground with a loud _Boom_. It shook the ground underneath her unsteady legs, which caused her to stagger back a few more feet towards the bright light that peeked over her thin shoulders. There was a distant whisper of voices as she was then bathed in the intense illumination that had mysteriously appeared from the once baby blue, cloudless sky.

            She sucked in a sharp breath as she tried to move her arms, but she suddenly felt as if she were paralyzed completely. Unable to move or do anything else, she just stood there bathed in the foreign light, her arms hanging limply at her sides, her head tilted to the side. The distant whisper of voices from before was beginning to grow in velocity and volume and she tried to block out the various tones that began to unforgivingly attack her ears.

            "_No more…"_

            "_End it all. Don't let them get away!"_

            "_Be wary, Hitomi! Watch out, behind you!"_  

            "How do you know my name?" Hitomi asked, her voice bleary and guttural. "What do you want with me?"

            "_Hitomi! Here, take this sword and don't be frightened…"_

"_Thress! Don't be such a fool; assail him with all you got! Miguel can_not_ hurt you I wouldn't let it happen. You are the main weapon for the King of Fanelia!"_

Hitomi squinted her eyes against the light and groaned loudly as she felt the ground beneath her feet suddenly vanish in thin air. Her body felt weightless as she rose into the air within the core of the column of light that seemed breathtaking to her. What was going to happen to her? Where was she going to end up? With who was she going to end up with? Would she end up being transported to the middle of the universe to be left alone to die within the airless world that seemed so unknown to the rest of mankind?

            She didn't know. She wouldn't know where she was until she landed in wherever she was going. Deep inside, she silently prayed that her trip would be a safe one and that she wouldn't be gone _too _long. She also prayed that she wouldn't fall into the wrong pair of hands. What if they didn't know what to do with her? What if they killed her for her looking as if she didn't belong in their world? In what world would she actually end up in any way? 

            Hitomi was just about to open her mouth to scream out for help, but everything faded out quickly, starting from the outside and working its way inwards. It was all black around as her lithe body sagged in the air. Upwards she continued to float until she was nothing but a little black speck within the bright white column of light. Trailing not too far behind, the column of light followed and evaporated into a thousand tiny stars as the sky immediately went back to it's cloudless appearance, the baby blue sky reappearing as if it hadn't been touched at all in any way.

*          *          *          *          

            "_And_ you're done!"

            The loud shout from the instructor jolted the King from his thoughts as he found himself standing in a stance, his long, large sword poised over his head as one long, well-developed arm was swept out at his side. He stood there for a few moments, his wide chest rising and falling heavily with each breath he took. The perspiration from the workout fell down the chiseled features of his handsome face as he let his arm slowly drop to his side, his other arm going up into the air, his large, calloused hand to the back of his neck.

            In silence, Van Slanzar de Fanel began to work out the knots that bunched his muscles together, cramping them up painfully. He closed his eyes for a short second and began to walk at a snail's pace across the cobblestone floor of the roof of the castle. There was a soft chuckle from behind followed by a pair of hands applauding him. Van turned around to find a pair of sapphire eyes on him, an approving and triumph smile adorning his thin lips that were pulled back to expose pearly white teeth all straight and nice.

            "Well done, Van," Allen Crusade Schezar congratulated him sincerely. 

            "What do you mean?" 

            "About the swordplay."

            "Oh," Van murmured quietly as he sheathed his sword. 

            "How did you find it? Hard or too easy?"

            "Not bad actually. It gave me a great workout."

            Allen chuckled and glanced at the sweat that matted his blood red sleeveless shirt to his tanned skin. "It shows. Was Drake too hard on you or something?"

            "No, not really."

            "Hm."

            Van ran a hand over his face and frowned beneath the hand as it came to a rest over his mouth. Allen watched the King in silence, his thoughts flying about the plan of assassination of the King of Fanelia that had almost been taken out accordingly last year. He wondered if that was what Van seemed to be thinking about since it looked as if he had a lot on his mind. Norté had explained to the King through message that they'd be sending down a Princess who was interested in the lush forests of Fanelia, including the culture of the Fanelians. The idea sounded interesting, but it also sounded dangerous.

            "What are you thinking about, Van?" asked Allen, pushing off the wall to stroll over towards him.

            Van looked at him and shrugged his broad shoulders. "Nothing, just thinking that I need to change into a fresh pair of clothes after I have bathed. I feel…dirty."

            "Why?"

            Another shrug. "I don't know, Allen. I suppose it's because I'm all sweaty and in need of a bath?"

            "All right, all right. No need for the irony."

            "Sorry. I'm just a little tired also, I hardly got any sleep last night."

            "More dreams?"

            "Yeah, only they're worse this time, more grisly, more grotesque, more…disturbing."

            Allen crossed his arms over his chest and frowned inwardly. "What are they about this time?"

            For a moment, Van looked baffled, disturbing himself. "The dragons," he answered, his voice slow and heavy as if dazed. "The dragons are stirring in the East of Gaea, Allen."

            "How do you know this?"

            Van blinked absently and looked him directly in the eye. "I hear their cries, Allen. I feel their agitation, their pain, and their hunger, Allen. Something's going to happen and it's going to happen soon."

            Allen studied the eighteen-year-old King with arched brows. "You don't know what's going to happen, do you?"  
  


            "No. The dragons don't even know. They're also gathering…" his voice trailed off into an inaudible whisper.

            "Gathering?"

            "Yes."

            "What will they do once they gather?"

            "They will come here to Fanelia." Van glanced over towards the East.

            Allen followed his gaze. "Can you call them?"

            "I can try to call Azoth, but he may have already gone to gather in Asturia."

            "Asturia?" Came Allen's taken aback response.

            Van nodded and began to turn so he could walk away. "Yes. The dragons, bronze, gold, blue, red, green and black always gather in Asturia. Didn't you know that, Allen?"

            "No. What can we expect from them?"

            Van glanced over his shoulder; his face entirely serious as a light gust of wind blew his pitch-black bangs out of his reddish-brown eyes. "Expect them to not burn Asturia and everything else to the ground if they get a hold of the firestone."

*          *          *          *          *          

            The quiet murmur of voices, male, deep and serious brought her away from the land of dreams and back into the world of reality, the world where things harsh and good came to you, the world that wasn't forgiving for any mistake or crime you committed. Long black lashes fluttered open, revealing a pair of murky water colored orbs that looked confused as they stared upwards at the ceiling of a tent that rustled softly in the quiet, warm breeze. The eyes closed and then opened again as they blinked away the drowsiness that clouded her vision that still seemed a little hazy.

            The quiet murmur grew in volume and she then sat upright in the cot, the blankets of silk and furs falling from her body to rest against her thighs. The breeze rustling the tent drifted into the room and caressed her bare skin as that a lover would do. Her bare flesh reacted instantly to the soft touch, her breasts raising just a tad. Involuntarily and absently, she shuddered and reached down to pull the blankets over her body.

            She couldn't remember what had happened the night before or the days before last night. Where was she? Who was she? Was she in trouble, dead? Who would be able to answer all her questions of bewilderment, vagueness and unease? The unknown female who didn't remember or know anything about everything turned around in the cot. Her eyes came to a rest on the strange weapons that sat scattered on top of a large bronze chest.

            The jagged edges of the blades sent shivers down her spine and many thought flying throughout her confused mind. Out of all the weapons, large and small, there was one thing that caught her attention immediately, the gold chains shimmering in the soft rays of mid-morning sunlight. The woman slid out of the bed with the blankets wrapped loosely around her body as she made her way to where the weapons rested.

            She seemed to stagger more then walk properly. It was like it was the first time she had ever used the pair of long legs attached to her body. As she stopped in front of the chest, she clutched the blankets close and then reached down to pick up the strange looking piece of jewelry. It was a locket; a heart shaped one with strange lettering embellishing the front of it.

            "_Vinous Sans Finale_," she whispered, her eyes roaming over the letters that were carved in ancient letters.

            She unclasped the necklace and did it up around her slender neck, the blankets falling from her body. The breeze felt good and at the same time comforting and relaxing as she stood there completely naked in the large tent. She glanced about the area and spotted something that resembled a set of cloths. She padded over barefoot and began to slip her legs into the pants, but she spotted a pair of underwear.

            Slipping the undergarments on, she then slipped on the pants and then the shirt, followed closely by the tight fitting jacket with long sleeves that reached her knuckles. After dressing, she walked over to the mirror and glanced at her reflection. Her eyes, which changed to a blue-green, traveled up and down the strange cloths hugging her body. The jacket, as she ran her fingers along her flat tummy felt rough and a little scaly, but also velvety at the same time. 

            It reminded her of a dragons' skin, all scaly, rough and yet velvety to human touch. As she walked over to the weapons, the sunlight caught her suit and reflected the miniature rainbow with every step she took. A sword lying on the ground in front of the chest caught her eye and she bent to pick it up. What immediately caught her attention about it was the dragons' head as the pommel and a deep Jade gem as the eye. The blade was long, clean and completely jagged along the sharp edges.

            She sheathed the great sword into the black scabbard hanging from her belt and began to head for the only exit available. The voices that she had previously heard died on the lips that had spoken the words and made the sounds for the vowels and consonants as soon as she emerged from the tent. With he head held high, jaw jutted out defiantly, she began to make her way for the largest tent amongst the twenty other or so that were pitched all around.

            As she passed by males of various bulk and are, they all bowed deeply as if she were royalty or someone special. It was obvious that she was someone special, but who?

            "Lady Callah."

            "Madame."

            "Thress, good morning!"

            "Milady."

            All the greetings were coming in from all around. All she could do was smile curtly, nod or reply with just a 'good morning' or 'how do you do?' She didn't know who or what they were, but it was apparent that they were on her side for they all wore the same things, only they didn't have a sword hanging from their belt like hers, theirs' were different, more plain and not as dangerous looking as hers.

            _They called me 'Thress'. Is that my name?_ She asked herself in perplexity as she entered the large tent.

            The flap, which was the door, flew past her as she strode in with self-assurance. Thress Callah stopped instantaneously as a ton more women and men dressed like her glanced at her. Some eyed her warily while others eyed her with great respect and poise. Why did they all look at her as if expecting something from her? What were they all expecting from her anyways? 

            Thress coughed inattentively and looked away. All the Dragon Slayers turned their attention back to their unknown man sitting in the chair. From what she could tell as she silently and slowly approached him was that he was an important man.

            "Ah, Thress Callah," the man greeted her as he twisted the chair around and faced her. 

            Thress' eyes went slightly wide as she found herself lost in a pair of crimson eyes sparkling with unlit flames, the look of hunger evident. A sardonic, malice smirk played with his lips as he absently stroked a long rose colored scar that ran down the right cheek. His silver hair seemed to be slightly pulled away from his high forehead by a red band of fabric. The thick, unruly strands sat against his temples in silence.

            "Lord Dilandau," Thress replied, her voice icy and holding no emotion what so ever. How did she know his name?

            "How is my best Dragon Slayer doing today? Sleep well, I hope."

            Thress held his rancor glare that held a look of amusement as well. "It was a wonderful sleep, Dilandau," she said sarcastically, bitterly.

            "Interesting. I have a special job for you, Thress. Do you think you could handle it?"

            _He's play with me!_ "What is it now?"

            Dilandau took his eyes from her and glared at the Dragon Slayers bowed in front of him on the ground. A look of pure disgust played across his face. "Get out of my sight!" he roared. "Report back when you have completed your missions. Otherwise, if you fail, don't bother to return. You fail, and you'll never live another day to brag about your betrayal to the Dragon Slayers."

            The crouched Dragon Slayers leapt to their feet and rushed out of the tent quickly, obvious that Dilandau was serious. Dilandau waited till the last Slayer was gone from sight before gesturing for Thress to come closer.

            "I don't bite, you should know that of all people."

            "Go to hell, Dilandau," Thress spat venomously.

            In a blur of motion, Dilandau was in front of her instantly. The hollow sound of his palm cracked against her cheek reverberated throughout the tent. Thress grunted and kept her head turned to the side as she began to cough up blood from the impact her teeth had done to her tongue.

            "Don't you ever say shit like that to me again. _Never!_  If you weren't my only best Dragon Slayer, I'd have killed you off a long time ago, Callah," he seethed between tightly clenched teeth.

            Thress turned her face around to face him fully. Long strands of her sandy-brown hair fell in front of her unyielding glare. She brushed them aside just as Dilandau turned to sit back in his chair. "I'm sorry, my Lord," she muttered, shifting her jaw from side to side.

            "Apology confirmed. I have a special job for you as I had previously said. Would you like to know what it is?"

            "Yes, Lord Dilandau."

            "Oh, don't look so down about it. It's not like I'm asking you to kill the dragons or slaughter the children and women of Gaea and then tack them to a wall."

            "What are you asking of my anyways?"

            "Do you know who the King of Fanelia is, Thress?"

            "Yes," came her slow answer. She didn't know there were Kings around here as well as dragons! Where was Fanelia anyways?

            "Good! I'd like you to pay him a little visit…"

            _To Be Continued…_


End file.
